a risk they were willing to take
by thejuicebandit
Summary: the avengers aren't sure what to do when Spider-Man dies. Peter Parker isn't, either. / Or: a story about Peter Parker and the effect he has on Tony Stark, the Avengers, and the rest of the world.
1. chapter 1: snatched

Tony Stark was on the ground.

He was injured.

He was in pain.

Fighting Thanos was hard.

Peter Parker saw him from above. He realized that if he failed to intervene, his mentor would inevitably die. And Peter wasn't about to let that happen.

As he swung down and flew between Tony and the overgrown eggplant, Peter suddenly remembered a time when he was younger. He had, thanks to chance and maybe even fate, seen Iron Man fight firsthand when he was eight years old. He could remember it so clearly... he had put his hand up, his iron man mask partially blocking his vision, knowing deep down he couldn't do anything but wanting so badly to try anyway. He always wanted to at least try. That much was his responsibility, or so he believed. This belief had carried through the years and translated into his impetus for publicly displaying his superpowers, for becoming Spider-Man.  
He had to try.  
He had to help.  
He had to do something.

And that's why Peter knew he had to do something to help the man who had done so much for him. Even though he knew he was no match for the giant hairy grape, he would do whatever he could to save Tony Stark or die trying.

Peter's webs brought him right in front of Thanos, but before he could do anything, he was snatched aggressively from the air. He could vaguely hear Tony shouting his name, but it didn't register in Peter's brain. Nothing did. He didn't know what was happening, but suddenly his world went dark.


	2. chapter 2: gone

Steve Rogers took a deep breath. This simple action elicited burning pain through his whole side, where he had been injured. Blood covered his torso.

They had won, but at what cost?

Tony Stark had been looking for Peter for two days. Even while fighting, he would check for the kid's location on his cellphone, but it never showed up. Tony felt personally responsible for the kid's disappearance. Peter had, after all, stepped (or, really, swung) in front of him, saving Tony's life and risking his own. And if Peter died... Tony felt like that was on him.

Suddenly, a harsh and hollow DING from his device broke Tony out of his daze. Picking up his phone more quickly than ever before, he checked the location of his kid one more time, his heart beating faster and faster. A little blue dot appeared not too far from where they were walking. "He's showing up he's showing up he's showing up" Tony said to Steve, panicking, starting into a sprint. Steve quickened his pace and landed next to Tony with ease. "it's probably a trap," Steve stated as gently as possible while running. "He hasn't shown up for two days."

"I don't care if it's a trap," Tony retorted. "Its a risk i'm willing to take." He increased his pace.

But then, only a few minutes later, Tony Stark came across something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Something that made him wish he could reverse time.

Something that made him wish he was dead.

Laying on the ground in front of him was Peter Parker's body, still and silent.

Peter was laying on his back in the grass. His left leg was bent and his right was over it. His right arm was by his side and his left was placed gently across his stomach. His head lolled slightly to the right. His eyes and mouth were closed, gently, permanently. He was covered in blood that looked freshly dried. Cuts across his face brought blood that had rolled down his cheek and across his sharp jawline and down his neck. A fatal stab wound on Peter's side colored much of the Iron Spider suit a deep, dark, and deathly red.

Tony sobbed as he checked for the boy's pulse, finding none. No sign of life. He was undeniably dead.

Tears rolled down Tony's cheeks and his sobs harshly shook his body as he knelt down next to the boy who had been like a son to him, who was gone, whose death was Tony'a fault. It felt like there was a hole where his heart was supposed to be, a hole so big it devoured him in one bite, leaving nothing left.

Steve's eyes brimmed with tears as he picked up Peter's body as gently as he possibly could. "Come on, Tony," he said, his throat aching and his voice threatening to give out. "There's nothing we can do for him now. He's gone. I'm sorry." He held Peter's body close to his own, the boy's lifeless head resting against Steve's chest.

He was gone.


	3. chapter 3: may be

Tony Stark knocked on the wooden apartment door with a knot in his stomach. It was less than two years ago that he had knocked on the same door, with a much less melancholy intention.

—

He remembered it so vividly. He had used his state-of-the-art tech to track down the Spider-Man's alter ego. Finding that it was just a teenager, he had traced the boy to his only living relative, May Parker, and found their address. He had concocted a whole fake story to use in order to explain to the kid's aunt.

He had knocked on that wooden door, and after 17 seconds, an unusually attractive woman had come to the door. It took her a second to register what and whom she was seeing, and she stared at him in a confused state of shock. "You must be May Parker," he had said, putting his hand out politely. She had shaken it, still confused. "Hi, um-"

"I would introduce myself, but i'm sure you already know who i am. Is your nephew home by any chance?"  
She had looked at him, eyes squinted ever so slightly. "No, but school just ended so he should be back any minute... why...? What do you need him for?"

"Kind of a long story," he had said. "May i come in?"

—

Now he was less eager to come in. May Parker opened the door, knowing something was up when she saw Stark without her nephew, whom she had no sign of recently. She had gotten it out of Ned that he had left the school bus before school, but that's all she knew. And then a bunch of scary shit happened...

"Where's Peter?" was the only thing she could think to say. She had dark circles under her eyes. She had barely slept in the past week. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and her hair was a little messy. Still, she looked pretty.

"He's-" Tony started, but then he stopped. His throat stopped working. He was too choked up to continue.

"He's gone," he said, his voice breaking.  
"i'm sorry"

Tony Stark hasn't expected May Parker to be able to pack a punch as well as she could. Maybe he was just weak from fatigue and sadness. Maybe he wanted to be hurt. Who knows.

But we do know that after May punched him, she stood there shaking. She stumbled closer to him and let him give her a platonic comfort hug. she put her head on his chest and cried  
and cried  
and cried.

And Tony Stark didn't break away.  
Maybe because he was crying too.


	4. chapter 4: shock

The Avengers publicly announced the death of their youngest member and revealed his identity. Everyone was shocked to find out that the brave, strong hero who had saved the lives of so many by risking his own, was merely sixteen years old. How was it that someone so young, someone so happy and lively, someone with so much potential, someone so good, could die so young, so soon? _Why him?_ the people thought. _Why not me?_

Articles cropped up in newspapers and news sites and blogs everywhere. Spider-Man was more famous now than he ever had been before. Those who knew him couldn't believe it, and neither could those who didn't.

—

Ned was depressed. He hadn't just lost his best friend; he had also lost his role model. He would never tell Peter this, of course, but how could he help but look up to him? He had been so smart, so kind, so fun, so brave. And he was only 16 and yet he was already a hero and a freaking Avenger. And Peter, of all people, didn't deserve to die yet. Not like that. He deserved to live a long, happy life, maybe get married, have lots of adventures... not die at 16, not be hurt and stabbed and left to die in the middle of the forest alone.

Ned wished he could take Peter's place. Peter could still do so much good in the world, he could save so many people. Why did he die and not Ned? Ned didn't deserve to live while Spider-Man died.

Ned Leeds sat on the edge of his bed, holding a Spider-Man throw pillow in his hand, tears running down his cheeks. He had never told Peter he owned a Spider-Man pillow — he always hid it whenever Peter came over after Ned found out about his friends identity — and now, Peter would never know. He would never get a chance to know how much Ned looked up to him, how much he had meant to everyone. He deserved to know that, but he never would.

Ned's floor was covered in legos. When Ned had found out about his best (and only) friend's sudden death, he had torn apart his nearly-finished Lego Death Star.  
He would never finish it. Not without Peter.

—

Flash Thompson sat on his expensive bed, scrolling through his high-profile social media on his expensive cell phone, when a news alert suddenly popped up on his screen.  
"Spider-Man: Death and Identity," an article from the Daily Bugle's news site.

"No way," he whispered as he clicked on the notification and waited for the article to load. A picture popped up. Huh, he thought. That looks like Penis Parker. Wait a minute... That IS-  
"No way," he said again. "No fucking way." His heartbeat sped up exponentially as he read the article. How on earth— Penis Parker? No fucking way. Not possible.  
Then, like a puzzle piece, like one of those stupid nerdy LEGO sets that that dorko Peter had always talked about with his dorko friends, it clicked. Everything clicked. Everything made sense — why Peter couldn't go to Washington, why he claimed to be friends with Spider-man (holy shit he wasn't just FRIENDS with him he WAS him), why Peter always disappeared, why he was so ripped even though he was a nerd who didn't play any sports, why he disappeared from the Decathlon finals and then Spider-Man showed up... it all made sense it all made so much sense.

Flash suddenly stopped. He realized... he had bullied Spider-man. How had he... what...

Ah, of course. Of course Peter didn't fight back. Because although Spider-Man could and would easily fight back, Peter Parker was still a nerd. Of course he would juxtapose between himself and his alter-ego, of course he was smart enough to hide his identity. As much as Flash had thought he was so smart, he wouldn't have done that. He would have exposed his identity the second he could, taken the fame and the glory even if it put to risk everyone he loved.

Flash had always thought he was so much better than Peter. Why? Because he was rich? Because he was cool? Stupid. It was so fucking stupid. All this time Flash had been treating Peter like he was garbage when really, one of the two of them was garbage and it sure as hell wasn't Peter. Flash had thought he was so great, and for what? All this time, Peter had been risking his own life to save the lives of people he didn't even know, just because he could, just because it was the right thing to do? And what was Flash doing? Mocking him. And of course Peter didn't bash his head in (even though he could! he so easily could!) because Peter was better than him. So much better.

And now Peter was dead. And Flash wasn't. And that, Flash decided, was not OK. That was really fucking messed up.

—

When Liz Toomes heard the news, she cried. A lot. She didn't know how much of a secret it was that she liked Peter. Like, liked him liked him. He was cute and nice and, like, so smart. But there was that major flaw: he always disappeared. Whether it was homecoming or her party or even the freaking Decathlon, he never stayed in one place for more than a few minutes. And Liz had never understood why. But now she did. And now it was too late. Because now Peter was gone. She wanted more than anything to give him another chance, but it looked like once again she ran out of time.

Time.

Time was that one thing she had never had enough of.

It was why she was so stressed in school, taking so many hard classes and not having time. She had really good grades but it took up all her time.

It's why she was so excited for homecoming. She had spent so much time on it, so much time to make it perfect. And it almost was, but then her date ditched her. Because, apparently, her date was Spider-Man.

He was Spider-Man.

If only she could have known that earlier, when there was still time to say that he is Spider-Man.

But now it was too late. She could never tell him how much she loved him. She liked Peter a lot, and she liked Spider-Man, too. And all along, they were the same person. And now she understood why Ned had blurted out, "Peter knows Spider-Man!" and why Peter had become so flustered and uncomfortable.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," she had said, to which he had responded, "You'd be surprised."

And she was surprised. And she didn't know how she hadn't seen it before.

She called the prison and asked to talk to her dad.

Adrian Toomes hadn't talked to his daughter in a long time. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had, so he had tried to distance himself from his family. But today, when the prison guards told him his daughter was on the phone and wanted to talk, he knew what was up. He had seen the announcement on the news that morning.

Of course Liz needed emotional support. And of course Adrian would be there for her when she needed him most.

He could barely understand what his daughter was saying. Her speech was so garbled by choked down tears, and she was sobbing. But he understood enough. He spoke gentle words of consolation.

He wouldn't tell his daughter that he was the man who had hurt Peter first. He wouldn't tell her that he was a villain, that he had done the opposite of what Peter did, that he had used his powers for evil rather than for good. Because not only would that be yet another reminder of how Peter, the little 16-year-old nobody, was so much better than him, but also he couldn't do that to Liz. He knew it would come back to hurt him or haunt him later; if she found out later she would want him to have told her earlier, and even if she never found out, there would still be a ghost inside of him that was slowly devouring him from the inside, creating a crevice within him filled with guilt and pain. But more important than him was his daughter. And right now, Liz needed a normal dad. He could never again be a cool dad, a good dad, or even a normal dad, but he had to at least try. He had to be there for her when she needed it most. He would help her, and if it hurt him to do so then that was a risk he was willing to take.

And so he comforted his crying daughter, telling her that everything would be OK, that Peter would have wanted her to be happy, that he was going to be there for her. And with every word, the hole within him widened, filling him further and further with guilt. Because he could have helped Peter. And he didn't. And now Peter was dead, and it was because of him that an innocent kid, a hero, had suffered as much as he did. And it was because of him that his daughter could barely breathe, sobbing and shaking, implicitly begging him for help that he could not give.

And there was nothing he could do.

There was nothing anyone could do.


	5. chapter 5: remember

May Parker wanted to have a small funeral for her nephew who was like her son.

She didn't know how much she could afford, but she was willing to pay whatever she had to pay, because Peter deserved that much.

However, it turns out she didn't have to worry about finances. Tony Stark paid for everything. Because Peter meant a lot to him, too.

May thought it would be small. After all, Peter didn't have any living relatives except for her. He had a few friends. But that was it, right?

What she didn't account for was the fact that not only all of the Avengers, but also almost all of Queens, and some from beyond, would want to come honor their fallen hero.

Thousands of people came.

May and Tony both gave eulogies at the funeral.

May went first. She talked about how, after Peter's parents died, he came to live with her when he was four. She told the people how hard it was for her when Ben died and how Peter helped her through it. How Peter was like a son, and how she could not have had a better one.

She couldn't make it through the whole thing without crying. A lot.

But in that aspect she wasn't alone.

Tony went next.  
"Peter Parker," he said, "was singlehandedly the most annoying person i've ever met." And then his voice broke. "And he's also one of the kindest, bravest, and strongest people in existence." His eyes welled with tears and his voice with emotion. "And he doesn't deserve this," he said, pointing to the coffin. "He deserves so much better. I just wish it could have been me instead of him." And at this point Tony knew he couldn't continue. Tears streaming down his cheeks, voice breaking, he managed to quietly choke out two final words, "I'm sorry," and then

he backed up

he was crying

but no one could judge him

because everyone else was crying too

even the people who had never met him

even Flash  
(but don't let him know that you know, because he's still spretty embarrassed about it)

MJ cried a little. She seldom showed emotion in public, but this had to be an exception. She hadn't told anyone that she had a crush on Peter for the majority of sophomore year. And she still did. And now, nothing would ever come of it. She vaguely wondered if she'd ever meet another person like him or if she'd end up like that weird, creepy cat lady in her neighborhood.

Michelle wasn't surprised to find out that Peter was Spider-Man. She had had her suspicious. Why else would he be so capricious, and react so robustly when she had told him that her friends were stuck in the Washington Monument. Why else would he have become so flabbergasted when Ned had revealed Peter's alleged association with Spider-Man? There were so many examples. Of course he was Spider-Man. Of course Peter risked his life every day to help people he didn't even know. And of course Peter died while doing it.


	6. chapter 6: pain

Peter Parker woke up in a dark room. He was on the wooden floor. His feet were tied to the ground and his arms were strapped to the cold white wall behind him. He tugged at the restraints but... no dice. They were too strong. Or maybe he was too weak.

He was alone.

He was confused.

Where am I? he vaguely wondered. What happened? He couldn't remember anything...

And then it hit him.

He had been fighting Thanos with the Avengers.  
With the other Avengers. He was an avenger now! Woohooooo!

But then... oh right! Iron Man was in trouble. He had swooped in to help in any way he could... then Thanos grabbed him... He had tried to get free but couldn't...

Then something else came... some weird alien looking thing... something on Thanos's side, apparently... It had grabbed Peter, shoved something sharp in his arm, and then everything disappeared.

Peter looked at his arm. It was a little red in one place, a little swollen... perhaps the alien thing had poisoned him, and he had only survived because of his augmented healing powers? Maybe it had drugged Peter? That would explain why he felt so fucking weird.

Then a figure emerged from the dark, starting Peter out of his daze. It was the weird alien thing!

It suddenly occurred to Peter that he didn't have his mask on.

"What did you do to me?" Peter asked, but his speech came out slurred and garbled.

"I didn't understand a word you just said," the alien said, "but i'm glad to see that you're finally conscious."

The alien spoke in what would sound like a British accent if his voice didn't sound vaguely like Greedo from Star Wars. It wore a brown and black cloak and had skin that looked like gravel and grey Play-Doh. The alien did not look like Greedo, but Peter began to think of it as him anyway. It was easier for him to connect his situation with Star Wars than to deal with it directly. Besides, Han Solo killed Greedo easily. If Han Solo, who had no superpowers (except for being totally and completely awesome) could defeat Greedo, then maybe Spider-Man could, too.

"We had originally thought the drugs we injected into your arm would kill you painfully," Greedo continued, "but it appears that you have some abnormal healing, because instead you simply lost consciousness."

Peter didn't say anything. This was partly because he didn't know what to say and partly because he couldn't speak very easily thanks to the drugs.

The alien continued. "Since you did not die, we have decided to experiment on you, since you clearly have abnormal abilities for a human. This will allow us to better understand you and the rest of your superhuman counterparts in order to form a more appropiate attack method."

Peter's heart started beating twice as fast. They were going to experiment on him... that didn't sound fun... He began to hyperventilate. The alien noticed. "Oh, there is simply nothing to worry about," Greedo said nonchalantly. "All we plan to do is see how our weapons work on you so that we may adjust our weapons accordingly." It spoke with a tone that implied that this cleared everything up, that there really was nothing to worry about.

Peter closed his eyes and wished he could be anywhere else. He'd even rather be in Spanish class. But now they're going to experiment on him. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. I'm going to wake up in bed, he thought. I'm gonna wake up and have to go to school but at least i won't be here.

But alas, when he opened his eyes, he was still on the wooden floor. His limbs were still strapped too firmly for him to move. And the alien was still in front of him.

"Well," it said, "If you are finished with the strange blinking ritual, I suppose that we shall begin."

Greedo wrapped a blanket around Peter's arms. He could do nothing to stop it.

"This," the alien explained, "is a prototype that we are currently working on. It is a device that will burn without any actual fire or heat! Therefore, you do not have to worry, since it is not a fire hazard." It clicked a button on a remote it was holding. Peter's hands and arms began to feel warmer. The blanket itself did not feel warm, but every bit of Peter's skin that it touched began to heat up. He felt like there was a fire on his skin that he couldn't get off. He clenched his teeth together and tried to repress a scream. A moan escaped his throat and tears welled up in his eyes. He had thought it was bad but it just kept getting worse. He sobbed. Then, suddenly, it stopped.

Peter was dizzy. He could barely see anything because of the tears that clouded his vision. He blinked them away.

Greedo approached him and pulled the blanket off of his hands. Where the blanket had been, Peter's skin was tinted reddish, and parts looked dark and slightly charred. It hurt like hell.

Greedo wrote something down on a piece of paper and then pulled a knife out of a box in the corner where he put the blanket.

Not wanting to show weakness, Peter swallowed back his tears. The alien walked up to him with the knife. "This one is not anything special," it said, "but it is good for research purposes to see how one reacts to a primitive weapon. It is, i suppose, a sort of control group situation."

Spider-Man closed his eyes, heart pounding. He felt the cold, hard, sharp metal cut into the skin on his face, upper arms, torso, legs...

It hurt.

So much.

So, so much.

Peter just wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to end.

And then, finally, it did.

He opened his eyes, which were clouded with tears. Tears streamed down his face, mixed with the blood that now covered so much of his body. He was in so much pain that he could barely register it. He was shaking all over, and bleeding, and sobbing. All he wanted was to go home, to sleep, to rest, for the pain to stop. He just wanted to be happy again. He just wanted to not be hurting. But the pain was so intense that Peter had forgotten what comfort felt like.

A BEEP rang through the air. Greedo touched something on his jaw, and it buzzed. Peter could vaguely hear a garbled, distant voice coming through the decide implanted on Greedo's face, and the alien responded to it in an unfamiliar language in a frustrated tone.

He turned to Peter. "I shall be leaving now, but do not think that you are done yet. My associate shall come within a few days. When he gets here, if your life still holds, he shall complete the experiments, or at least do what he can with what life you have left in you."

He then pulled a smaller knife from his belt, shoved it into the side of Peter's torso, and left.

Peter cried out. New, fresh pain seized him like a wave attacking the sand. It was more than he could bear. For the second time, Peter blacked out.


	7. chapter 7: return

When Spider-Man woke up, he was alone. He was in the same room. He looked around.

The wooden floor was stained with his blood. So was his Iron Spider suit. The suit was also torn up in many places. A pang or guilt echoed through him. Tony Stark had made that suit for him... he had worked so hard, and it was probably really expensive, and then Peter just went and ruined it. Just like he ruined everything.

Peter looked down at his body. His arms had healed significantly. Where they used to be deep red and blackened, they were now pinkish. They still hurt, but not as much. The stab wound in his side had healed some, and so had the many cuts on his body. The blood on his torso had dried.

He was in a lot of pain. More pain than he had felt before the alien experimented on him, but in comparison to THAT, it wasn't that bad.

He was also feeling a lot less sluggish than he had been earlier. Perhaps the drugs had worn off.

It occurred to Peter that he had no idea how long he had been gone. Had it been a day? Days? ...Weeks? Peter suddenly realized how hungry he was. He was ReAlLy HuNgRy. He felt like he hadn't eaten in DAYS... probably because he hadn't. He needed to get home.

Peter tugged once more on the restraints around his wrist. They were so strong.  
but then one of them popped.

He pulled it twice as hard and it came undone. His right hand was free. Then he pulled out his left hand, then his right foot, then his left foot.

He was free.

Peter stood up and almost immediately lost his balance. His fatigue, hunger, blood loss, and pain all teamed up on him to knock him over once again.

But no.

He was stronger than them.

He wouldn't let anything knock him over this time, because if he did then he just might not ever get back up again.

And so he pushed himself four times as hard. He walked to the door. His vision was blurred in front of him and everything was wobbling around but he kept walking. He got to the door. It was unlocked. He laughed to himself. The alien hadn't locked the door. It must have assumed that Peter wouldn't wake up, at least until his "associate" came, and that even if he did, he wouldn't have been strong enough to release himself from the restraints, let alone leave.

But Peter Parker was strong. He opened the door, and, to his relief, realized that he was in New York! In fact, he knew exactly where he was; he was in the old abandoned warehouse only 4 blocks from the new Avengers facility. And he knew exactly how to get there.

—

After Peter Parker's funeral, the Avengers went back to the compound. They were all incredibly worn out and emotionally exhausted. They all, in one way or another, felt some sort of guilt pertaining to the death of the youngest member of their team. Whether it was that they felt responsible or partly responsible, or that they felt that they hadn't treated him well enough during his life, or a number of other things, they all felt awful about it. Because why did they deserve to live while their young spiderling was hurt and killed? Why did he die and they didn't?

The Avengers Minus One sat around a table at the Avengers Compound. They ordered a pizza and they all pretended like they were going to eat it, but no one did. They all played with their food but no one could eat. They weren't hungry. Even though some of them hadn't eaten in days, they weren't hungry.

No one said a word. They were going to talk... they had to decide: what now? But no one said a word. Either they didn't know what to say, they didn't have anything to say that hadn't already been said verbally or repeated through all of their minds a million times over, or they knew they wouldn't be able to get out a single word and so didn't even bother trying.

That is, until Peter Parker, bleeding and shaking profusely, stumbled into the room through the open door. The Avengers all stood up in shock but didn't move. They watched, eyes wide, as Peter, holding onto the doorframe for much-needed support, managed to choke out three small words, "Please, help me," and fell to the ground.


	8. chapter 8: answers

Bruce Banner was the first one to react. He hadn't known Peter as well as some of the others, but he was a doctor. He'd treated people medically before, in India. Seeing Peter was like seeing one of his patients. And Peter was pretty badly off. He was covered in cuts, blood dripping from them. Most of the blood was dried, but it didn't look very old. His arms looked like they had been burned. He had a stab wound in his torso. With all of these injuries, Peter should have been dead. And he was supposed to be dead.

Bruce turned to the other Avengers. "Peter's dead," he said, "or at least we thought he was. Maybe this is a fake, a replica, a shape shifter... it could be a number of things. But maybe, the Peter we saw earlier, the one we buried, maybe that was the fake. There's still a chance that this is the real Spider-Man and if it is... oh man, he really needs our help."

Steve stumbled forward. "How do we know which is which?"

"DNA test," Bruce replied as if it was obvious (which it was for everyone except Steve), forgetting that since DNA was not discovered until 1953, Steve wouldn't know much, if anything, about its existence.

—

May Parker was sitting in her apartment, trying to keep herself busy so that she wouldn't start thinking.

She knew that the Avengers would all be there for her if she asked, but she kind of needed some alone time.

The sheer number of people who had shown up at her nephew's funeral was shocking, to say the least. She knew he was a good kid, but she had had no idea that he had managed to positively impact the lives of literally thousands of people.

And she'd had no idea how much Peter had meant to Tony Stark. She knew her nephew had looked up to him, but the way Tony talked about him made her think that maybe Peter was like a son to Tony. Perhaps Peter had had that same effect on Tony that he'd had on May. She supposed he was like that. An easy kid to love.

May's phone rang while she was doing the dishes.  
Her phone had been ringing a lot recently. Whether it was old friends calling to express their condolences, or students/parents/teachers from Midtown Science and Technology, or people she didn't even know, May received call after call in the few days after Peter's death.

So, when she heard the phone ring, it wasn't that out of the ordinary.

She let it ring.

She didn't have the emotional energy to deal with that right now. She just needed some alone time.

The call ended. Then the person called again. She wandered into the kitchen, where her phone was, and made it just in time for the voicemail. It was Tony Stark. "May... call me back as soon as you get this. We have made a recent discovery that you definitely will want to know about."

She clicked the answer button. "What's going on?"

"Uh... not sure how to say this without sounding like a conspiracy theorist, but um... We have reason to believe Peter's death might have been faked and that he's still alive."

May's heart began to pound and her hands to shake. "And that reason is...?"

"DNA samples. Also the fact that he's right here in the compound."

"I'll be right over."

—

May walked into the compound and was immediately met by Tony.

"What the fuck is going on?" she said.

Tony swallowed. "Ok. So, when Peter saw me fighting Thanos he came to help, and Thanos grabbed him. We looked for him for two days and finally found his body in the forest, dead. Or so we thought, until Peter showed up at the compound last night. We did a DNA test on him and on what we thought was him... and it turns out that the thing we thought was Peter was actually a shapeshifting alien which was placed there probably so that we wouldn't go looking for Peter."

Tony stopped because May looked like she was about to pass out.

"You alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She just glanced around the room and whispered, "What the fuck?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"So, the alien?" May interrupted. "Is it alive?"

"No, it was dead when we got there."

"But if that wasn't Peter... then where was he? Why didn't they want us to find him?"

"That's... that's the worst part. When the alien grabbed Peter, it injected him with a lethal drug that was supposed to kill him very painfully. However, since Peter has augmented healing abilities, the drug just hurt and made him pass out. Because it didn't kill him, the aliens realized he was more powerful than the average human so they decided to experiment on him."

May stumbled, eyes brimming with tears. "No."

Tony nodded solemnly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to come. He wished he could undo what had happened. He wished he could make those aliens regret what they had done to his kid. He wished and wished, but nothing ever comes of wishing.

"How did he escape?" May asked, clinging onto Tony for support.

"The thing that was experimenting on him left, saying that it's associate would come to finish the tests, but when Peter woke up, he had healed significantly and was stronger than he had been before and so was able to break the restraints. It seems like they underestimated his strength and the amount of time it would take him to heal, based on what he told us."

"He's awake?"

"Yeah, he woke up this morning. He's asleep now, but you can see him when he wakes up."

May nodded dizzily. She still hadn't fully grasped the fact that her boy was alive.


	9. chapter 9: awakenings

When Peter Parker woke up, he was in the most comfortable bed he'd ever felt.

Or maybe it was just the fact that it was so much better than the wooden floor.

Sitting up, he suddenly remembered everything that had happened. He felt like he was being crushed, like the air was being forced out of his lungs, like something huge and heavy was pushing down on his chest. Why had he not been able to get himself out sooner? Why was he so weak that he let himself be captured?

He looked around. He was in a small, quiet room. The walls were painted white and the floor was covered in a fuzzy grey carpet. His arms were only a little pink and were almost entirely healed. They still were a little tender and sore, but he could use them and touch them without insane amounts of pain. He had cuts on his body, but they had healed significantly. He had several bandages on his side, but there was no blood. He was clean. He then realized that he was wearing a Spider-Man tee shirt. He smiled.

Peter stepped out of bed, but when he stood up he realized he was still a little weak, so he sat back down on top of the bed.

The door opened. Tony Stark walked in.

"Glad to see you're up," he said.

Peter looked down at the comforter underneath him and traced the diamond pattern with the tip of his finger. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Tony frowned at him. "What on earth are you sorry for?"

Peter still didn't look up, didn't make eye contact. "They shouldn't have been able to take me. I should have been stronger than that. And now my suit is messed up and —"

"Whoa whoa slow down, kid. First of all, you are not weak. After everything they did to you, the fact that you were still able to get up and walk away, walk all the way back here... I've been there, i know how hard it is... that kind of strength is admirable, to say the least." He sat down on the edge of Peter's bed, like he had when he first recruited the kid two years ago. "Secondly... don't worry about the suit, ok? The suit isn't what's important here. We... we thought you were dead, and—"

"Wait, you thought i was dead?" Peter asked, finally looking up.

Tony frowned, with the sudden realization of all that Peter didn't know.

And then it hit him

"Oh shit."

"What?"

"Shit." He turned to Peter. "I don't know how to tell you this... those aliens - whoever took you - they faked your death, for whatever reason. Put a shapeshifter in your place... You were- You were dead. We... uh... your identity is out. I'm sorry."

Peter stared at the blue diamond pattern. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to be angry at Mr. Stark, because Mr. Stark had just put Peter's family in danger. It was bad enough when Ned and Aunt May and the Vulture knew, let alone the whole world. Peter wanted to be angry.

But he wasn't.

If he learned anything in the past few days, it was that he was better than that. If he let his anger consume him, he would be no better than the villains he fought every day.

And maybe it was because he was still trying to convince himself that he was better than them. Maybe it was because he was just so glad to be safe, so glad to not be in pain, so glad to be with someone who cared about him.  
Maybe it was just because he really was a good kid. But for whatever reason, he wasn't angry.

He just nodded slowly. "Ok," he said quietly.

Tony looked at him for a second, frowning. He had expected the kid to react a lot more strongly than that, but hey, he wasn't complaining. He nodded. "May I asked what happened? " he asked warily. "Before you came back here to the compound?"

"Well, right after that alien thing grabbed me, it injected some poison into my arm." He looked at his arm, where the swelling was completely gone.

"Yeah, the doctors figured that out. Pretty lethal, at least for a normal person, but because of your healing...?"

"Yep. They thought I would die, so when I didn't, they realized I was superhuman so they decided to experiment on me."

Tony looked at him in horror. The poor kid. "What did they do to you?" he half-whispered.

"Not too much," Peter responded, attempting to feign fortitude by acting like it was no big deal. "They used this blanket thing that burned my arms, and then a knife... And then the alien guy who sounded like Greedo had to leave or something, so he stabbed me and left. He said his associate was coming soon to finish the testing, but when i woke up he wasn't there, and i had healed enough that I could break the restraints, so i left."

Tony couldn't say anything.

He just looked at the kid, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"Wow," is all he managed to get out, after a few seconds.

Peter continued, "I think they underestimated the amount of time it would take me to heal enough to regain consciousness and some strength."

Tony nodded. "That explains why they put a replacement in for you. They didn't want us finding you while they tested, because that would mess up their experiments and it would also put them and their weapons and their plans in danger."  
He stood up. "Well, now that we know you're ok, i'd better go tell your aunt that you're still alive."

Peter almost jumped out of the bed. "She doesn't know?"

Tony shook his head. "No. After the funeral—"

"Wait... funeral?" Peter responded, his voice cracking slightly. "You guys had a funeral for me?"

Tony smirked and raised his eyebrows. "You were dead, kiddo. We found your body. What were we supposed to do, throw you in a ditch?" He chuckled brokenly and shook his head as he left the room.

Peter didn't move for a few minutes. He just sat there, thinking. It was a lot to think about.

Everyone thought he was dead. Ok.

His identity was out. Oof.

How would he go back to school like this? "Surprise, i'm not dead, also i'm Spider-Man!"?

He was incredibly overwhelmed. He decided to lie down and ended up falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	10. chapter 10: more than one reunion

Steve Rogers stood with his back against the light blue wall, reading a news article about Peter Parker's death (which apparently was fake) on one of those oddly thin and oddly intelligent televisions (which was apparently also a phone, because that makes sense).

As he read the article, a pang of guilt erupted within him. Sure, the kid wasn't actually dead, but he sure as heck had been through a lot.

Just then, Tony walked through the door and sighed. Without looking up, Steve gently said, "Hey Tony."

"Hey Cap," Tony responded stiffly as he quietly closed the white door behind him.

"Look," Steve began, looking up from his screen. He took a deep breath. "I don't want stuff like this to happen," he said, vaguely gesturing at the door Tony had just walked out of, behind which Peter sat. "Not to you, not to anyone here. And we need to have each other's backs. Because if we're not working together, how are we ever going to team up? How could we prevent something like this from happening again if we're..." He swallowed. "What i mean to say is.. if we want to be a functional team—"

"Then we need to stop being petty bitches and actually work together, sort of an 'agree to disagree' situation," Tony finished.

"Exactly." Steve nodded. "'A house divided against itself will not stand.'"

"Well aren't you being patriotic, Mr. Star-Spangled Freedom, quoting Abraham Lincoln and everything!"

"Actually, it was in the Bible first. Matthew 12:25. Look it up."

Tony laughed and shook his head. "Well, you learn something new every day."

"So you're finally admitting you don't know everything?"

"Agree to disagree?" Tony put out his hand.

Steve laughed. He shook Tony's hand, then pulled him in for a long-overdue hug.

Tony tried to ignore the fact that he was happy about it, that he needed that hug.

He also tried to ignore the fact that Cap was at least several inches taller than him. But for once he decided not to be petty.

Maybe for once, they could be friends.

Peter woke up feeling like he had slept an eternity. He felt so much better. His hands looked fine, and the scars all over his body were barely visible. He was still wearing the dark red shirt with a black Spider-Man symbol on it with  
blue shorts. He had bandages on his side still, but there were fewer now than there had been last time. He pressed on it. It still hurt, but not very much. Definitely not as much as he would expect from a stab wound.

Aunt May was sleeping in a chair next to his bed. She had her arms folded and rested against a table and was using them as a pillow.

Peter swung his legs around the bed and stood up. Unlike the last few times he had woken up, this time he could stand without much difficulty. A wave of dizziness hit him, but it passed just as quickly as it came.

He gently tapped on May's shoulder and whispered her name.

She opened her eyes groggily, but within 0.2 seconds she had jumped up out of her chair and enveloped him in a hug, squeezing the air out of him (but he didn't mind). Peter wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her shoulder as she gently stroked her fingers through his wavy brown hair, sobbing softly and whispering his name again and again. He was alive. Her kid was alive. Peter might have cried, too. He was just glad to be home.

—

Peter opened the white door softly. He could hear whispers coming from the hallway, and whispered laughter. His heart flooded with happiness when he saw Michelle and Ned, his two closest friends, sitting on the carpeted floor of the hallway, laughing at memes. He closed the door behind him and started to walk over to them. "Hey, guys," he said.

"Holy shit!" Ned said, a little louder than he meant to, as he jumped up. "You're not dead!" He gave Peter a tight hug, lifting him off the ground. "Hey man," Peter said, being semi-strangled by the hug. MJ stood up behind them and joined the hug. "I'm glad you're not dead," she said as she nestled in with her boys, and for once there was not a trace of satire in her voice.

After a minute or two, they broke apart.

"Dude," Ned said, "I might have accidentally broken my LEGO Death Star... so we might need to rebuild it."

Peter laughed.

"'Accidentally'," MJ sneered mockingly, knowing that he had actually knocked it over when he found out that Peter had "died."

"Shut up," Ned said, playfully shoving her arm. He turned back to Peter, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "But that's ok, because Tony Stark cried at your funeral."

"No way, seriously?" Peter whispered.

MJ nodded. "So did all the other Avengers."

"So did Flash," Ned added.

"So did you," MJ teased.

"Hey," Ned whispered, "so did you."

"Shut up," MJ shoved him back.

Peter just smiled and looked between the two of them, realizing how lucky he was to have such amazing best friends.


	11. chapter 11: friends

Later that day, the Avengers told the public that Spider-Man's death was faked. They considered creating a false story, but since everyone pretty much already knew that aliens had come to Earth and were fighting the Avengers, they realized they didn't have much to lose. It's not like they were going to release any confidential information.

And so Tony Stark spoke to some reporters (real ones, not bloggers) and before the end of that day, news sites and news apps and newspapers were blowing up with article after article about the most exciting and mind-blowing story of the century (at least, that's what the Daily Bugle called it).

Aunt May brought Peter his phone that day, and he had 4,389 messages, as well as countless emails from teachers and classmates and people he forgot he even knew.

* * *

Liz sent him a message as soon as she saw the news alert on her phone.

L: hey peter

P: Hey, Liz

L: i'm so happy you're ok

L: how r u doing

L: i mean, i saw you on the news... r u ok?

P: Yeah, i'm ok. A little overwhelmed tbh but good other than that lol

L: i never understood why you always disappeared... it all makes sense now

P: Yeah that was kinda hard to hide. I mean, it's out now... maybe that'll make things a little easier

L: yeah

L: i'm sorry that it didn't really work out

L: with us, i mean

L: i kinda feel bad now, since you were like, being a superhero and stuff, and i just thought you had issues haha

P: Yeah lol

P: Don't feel bad tho. I'd probably do the same.

P: (And by probably I mean definitely)

L: hahaha

L: i should probably tell you

L: i had a major crush on you

P: On Peter Parker or on Spider-Man?

L: both

P: Oh

P: Wow

P: I was just about to tell u that i felt the same, I forgot you already knew that lol

L: haha

L: id love to date you, but i just feel like it wouldn't work out

L: i mean, we live on opposite sides of the country

L: also you're like a freaking superhero and i'm sure you don't have time for a long-distance relationship. i mean i'm busy enough just with school, i can't even imagine...

P: Yeah, you're right.

And they both wish she wasn't right. They both wish it could work, but they both know it can't.

* * *

Peter healed insanely quickly. The day after he woke up, the doctors in the complex had decided unanimously that he was ready to go back home. A few of them were wary, since a person with injuries such as those shouldn't be alive, let alone walking and fine within days, but still, Peter was healed enough that he could leave. His scars had healed to mere white lines on his epidermis where the lacerations had once been. They told him to keep his side covered and change the bandages daily for a week, but it was almost entirely healed. They could barely believe it, even when the proof was right in front of their eyes.

The day after Peter woke up, he went back home to his apartment in Queens. It was a Saturday. MJ and Ned came over and spent that day with Peter and May. They rebuilt the Death Star. Peter knew he would have to go back to school soon, and that would be a whole new wave of overwhelming, but he didn't want to think about that yet. And so he just enjoyed the time with his friends while he could. Ned taught them how to play a card game called Pusoy Dos (after a few mispronunciations, May decided to just call it by its other name, Filipino Poker), which they all were confused by at first but quickly became addicted to.

And it was fun.

And they were happy.

 **And they were home.**


	12. chapter 12: back to school

Peter Parker did not want to go back to school.

How would the people react? Would they be afraid of him? Would they treat him better and pretend to be his friend? Would they treat him like a zombie, coming back from the "dead"?

He would rather leave these questions unanswered, but he couldn't. He'd have to face this.

But at least he wouldn't have to face it alone. At least Ned would be there with him, and MJ.

Peter got out of bed and opened his drawer. He had never put much thought into his clothes - he had always just put on the first thing he saw - but today was different. He pulled out shirt after shirt - why were all of his clothes blue?! Finally he found one that was dark green. He didn't want to emphasize his other identity too much if he could avoid it. Sure, it was cool that he was Spider-Man, but people would already know about it and react likewise, and he didn't want to draw any additional attention to what he wished was still a secret. Pulling on jeans and his green shirt, grabbing his phone and keys and leaving, he tried to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake up his aunt. May had looked really tired, and Peter guessed that she hadn't slept much since his disappearance.

Peter stepped onto the bus and glanced around, sighing with relief when he saw that Ned was already there. He quickly walked over to where his friend was sitting and joined him, trying to ignore the fact that everyone on the bus was staring at him.

"Hey, man," Peter said. Ned said "Hey" back. Peter put his earbuds in and tuned out the world, pretending everything was normal.

* * *

Peter walked into school with the crowd of students from the bus, but it was different this time. He remembered the last time he'd been to school, about a week. People had bumped into him, pushing him aside so they could get in first, as if it mattered that much. Peter honestly didn't care enough to do anything about it, and he wanted to juxtapose between his two identities as much as possible, so he didn't push back. But today, no one bumped into him. At least several students stared at him when they thought he wasn't looking and then looked away quickly when he turned his head.

Peter stopped at his locker, trying to remember what books he needed that day, trying not to concentrate on the fact that his spider senses were telling him that he was being watched. Watched by a hundred eyes. Watched from every direction. Watched everywhere. His every movement was being scrutinized. Peter clenched his teeth and ignored it. He picked up his bags and turned around, jumping slightly at the sight of a tall, scrawny kid standing right behind him. He had been concentrating so hard on drowning out his spider senses that he didn't allow them to warn him that someone was standing right behind him.

After a second he recognized the student. Rory Alden. They had Algebra together. He was really quiet in class. Like Peter.

"Hey, uh..." Rory began. "I just wanted to say thanks..."

"What for?" Peter asked, confused.

"Uh... yeah of course you don't remember..." he shook his head, blushing slightly, absentmindedly pulling a string from his maroon sweater. "It was about two months ago—"

Then the memory came rushing back to him. "Oh right," Peter said suddenly, "the bridge."

Rory nodded, looking up at Peter with hope in his eyes. About two months prior, Spider-Man had saved Rory from an accident in which his car had been knocked off of a bridge. Spider-Man hadn't been able to save the car, just the guy in it. "Sorry about your car," Peter said.

Rory laughed and shook his head. "You saved my life," he said, emotionally. "'Thank you' doesn't really cover that, but, uh..." He finally ripped the string out of his sweater sleeve. "I've kinda been hoping that i would be able to know who Spider-Man was, or at least see him again, so i could thank him. Uh, you. Thank you. But seriously, thank you."

Peter smiled. "You're welcome." He turned back to his locker and locked it, the trace of a smile still on his face.

The bell rang. He followed Ned to physics class, thankful that he wouldn't have to go it alone.

* * *

Peter was the last one out of the classroom. Right as he was about to leave, his teacher, Mr. Brandet, stopped him. "Peter," he called, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Peter turned around and walked back to his teacher's desk.

"Are you OK?" Mr. Brandet asked. "I can tell you've been through a lot in the past few days." Peter nodded.

"Ok good. If you need anything, let me know."

Peter nodded again. "Thank you." He stood there for a second. "Is there something you wanted to-"

"Yes, sorry," the teacher interrupted, smiling nervously. "I, uh, just wanted to say thank you. A while ago, you saved my daughter... I can't tell you how much that means to me. You probably get this a lot, but you really are a hero. She's 5, and she's been talking about you ever since. And i just wanted to say thank you, for saving Dalilah, and by extension, me."

Peter smiled. He didn't really know what to say. "You're welcome, of course. Uh-"

Then the bell rang. "Oh gosh," John Brandet said, "You should get to class. I'm so sorry for holding you up. Here's a pass," he said, handing Peter a slip of paper, "so you won't get in trouble for being late to your next class. I'll see you around, Peter." Peter nodded and smiled as he left the room.

* * *

After Spanish, Peter had a free period. He walked out of the classroom into the hall, where Flash stopped him. Oh great, he thought. What now? Peter had had many experiences with Flash, and not one of them had left a good impression.

"Hey Peter," Flash said, lacking his usual pompous, haughty confidence.

Peter turned to Flash and was surprised to see emotion and legitimate remorse in his eyes. "I just wanted to apologize to you."

"Because you regret being a jerk just because I'm Spider-Man?" It came out a little harsher than Peter had intended.

Flash winced. "That does seem like something i would do, doesn't it?" He sighed. "It's just... finding out your identity, hearing that you'd "died"? It made me realize how awful I'd been. Cause you were always such a good person. And here I was, treating you like garbage, too stupid to see that you're so much better than me." He swallowed. Peter didn't know how to react, so he just stood there, speechless. Flash continued carefully, "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but i just wanted to say that i'm sorry, and —"

"I forgive you."

"—what?" Flash looked up at Peter, not sure he'd heard right.

"I forgive you."

Flash tried to smile. "Thank you," he said quietly.

And in spite of it all, Flash was still embarrassed that he had just humbled himself, to a nerd no less. But he also realized that Peter had saved his life, and the lives of many others, and that he was lucky to know him. And somehow, that made it all worth it.

* * *

Through the rest of the day, most people treated him differently than before in one way or another. Some were afraid of him. Some suddenly wanted to be friends with him. Some treated him the same but gave him weird looks. Some thanked him or apologized, or both. Some asked to take a picture with him.

A lot of people stared at him, and to be honest, Peter couldn't blame them. It was kind of insane... he was alive, then he was dead, then he was alive again and surprise, he was Spider-Man the whole time! Who wouldn't be shocked and confused?

 **And this is how things went for a few days. Weeks, even. Maybe even months. But in spite of it all, Peter remained true to himself. The reputation of Spider-Man was a great thing, and Peter could so easily misuse it to gain popularity or "friends" or a number of other things, but he was better than that. He remembered a thing his Uncle Ben had told him before he died: "With great power comes great responsibility."**


	13. chapter 13: it suits you

RRRIIINNNGGG

Only six and a half more hours of school!

A little more than a month after Spider-Man's death was faked and his identity was revealed to the world, Peter Parker's crazy life was nearly back to normal.

RRIINNGG

Only two more hours!

Of course, it would never be normal, not again, not after the spider bite, but at least the commotion had died down, at least now Peter wasn't constantly bombarded with journalists and fans every time he went outside, at least people in school started treating him semi-normally again. At least the myriad of cuts across Peter's body had long since disappeared, and the stab wound in his side had miraculously healed only days later. At least life was close enough to normal again.

rriiIIINNNGGG

And, at last, Peter was free.

As soon as he stowed away his backpack and did a quick handshake with Ned, Peter jumped over the fence outside Midtown Science and Technology, shot a web, and flew off out of sight, no longer worried whether people would see him using his spider-like abilities without first donning his patriotically colored suit.

Spider-Man, clothed like a normal teen and without his mask, zoomed over to the Avengers complex, landing on a roof and climbing upside down inside a window. "Hello!"

Tony jumped. He had been expecting the teen, but was still startled by his surprise appearance.

"Hey kid! Please refrain from giving me a heart attack."

"Sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter replied, jumping gracefully down from the ceiling. Tony Stark was in his lab, working quietly, with many screens and holograms surrounding him. Peter walked over to him.

The previous day, Tony had told the kid he could come over after school to work on his suit. He had some ideas on how he could improve the webs.

He brought Peter over to another table, where he had whitish fluid in a small bottle next to a small, silvery wristband. "This web fluid will dry immediately on contact, so you won't have to worry about your opponent being able to escape while it's still wet or about it drying in midair. Also, it's made with a sort of liquid steel elastic, so it's incredibly durable but also stretchy enough that you can bounce if you fall from high up."

"Whoa, that's awesome!" Peter said, looking at it, afraid to even touch it. How did he deserve to have the one and only Tony Stark helping him develop his inventions?

Tony smiled when Peter became overly excited. He didn't think it was that big of a deal, but apparently it was for the kid.

Tony picked up the wristband. "This is something I made using the same technology I used on my most recent suit. You wear it around your wrist, and when you want it to expand, you just click this button here."

He gave it to Peter. "Can I try it on?" the kid asked enthusiastically.

"Go ahead," Tony responded.

Peter examined the silvery band. It looked like a small bracelet made of silver squares. Each square was about half an inch wide and a few millimeters thick. He put it on his wrist. It fit perfectly and was surprisingly comfortable. It also didn't look too out of the ordinary, like Peter could wear it to school and no one would think anything of it. He pushed the slightly hidden buttons and, like magic, the wristband expanded and fit snugly around his hand and wrist. "Whooaahhh!" Peter said as he gazed at the device in awe.

Then, the webshooter tightened just a little bit.

It was too tight.

Suddenly, Peter's heart started to beat too quickly.

He couldn't breathe.

WhY cOuLdN't He BrEaThE?!

He was shaking and sweating and hyperventilating.

WhAt WaS hApPeNiNg To HiM?!

Peter dropped onto his knees, trying to get the device off of his hand despite the fact that he was dizzy and shaking and he didn't know what to do.

Tony Stark knelt down next to him. Gently grabbing Peter's arm, he pushed the device in the right place, and it popped off. He pulled the webslinger off of Peter's hand, put his arm around Peter, and pulled him closer. He held him there gently until he stopped shaking. After about a minute, Peter pulled back, his eyes wet and his vision blurry. "I'm so sorry," he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking with fear. "I- I don't know what happened, I just-"

"Panic attack," Tony said, standing up. "I unfortunately know exactly what they look like because I get them all the time. It must have been because the wrist piece was too tight…" he trailed off, turned around, and typed something into a nearby monitor. "I'll have to fix that…" he started mumbling to himself and doing calculations.

Peter remembered the restraints with which he had been tied up when he was being experimented on in that old warehouse with the alien who sounded like Greedo. A chill shot down his spine. It felt like forever ago, and yet it also felt like yesterday.

And now he had panic attacks. As if his life wasn't weird enough.

Peter walked numbly over to the table with the web fluid on it, wondering if his life would ever be the same.


	14. chapter 14: panic! at the worst time

Peter sat in class, trying not to fall asleep while taking notes on his laptop. Government class could be so boring…

Then a notification popped up on his screen. A news alert.

"Iron Man Gone Rogue"

Heart racing, he clicked on the notification, which opened a news page that detailed how Iron Man had deliberately lost a fight, putting the lives of many in danger. There had been four confirmed casualties so far.

"No," Peter whispered.

He looked up. The same breaking news alert had popped up on his teacher's screen and on the screens of all of the other students. His government teacher opened the alert on her monitor, which was being projected onto a larger screen in the front of the classroom. A video popped up.

Heart racing, Peter closed his laptop and put it in his bag. He glanced back at his teacher to see if she was watching. She was, but she gave him a little nod and mouthed "Go." Peter quickly and quietly left the classroom and jumped out of the nearest window.

Swinging on his new webs, Peter made his way uptown fairly quickly.

Then, suddenly, he fell.

He couldn't tell if it was his webs that gave out, or him.

All he knew is that he was falling

falling

falling straight towards the ground

Straight towards the hard, concrete ground

He reached his hand out to shoot a new web

But nothing came out

Nothing

He tried again

Nothing

What was wrong with him?

His heart was beating so fast

He was hyperventilating

Not now

Not a panic attack

Not now

And then Peter heard a voice

It was the voice of the alien. The creature who sounded like Greedo.

"You didn't honestly think you'd get out that easily, did you?"

And he laughed

But the voice was talking inside of Peter's head

And he blacked out.


	15. chapter 15: captive

Peter woke up in a long, thin room. His arms and legs were restrained.

Darn. He had hoped that that would never happen again.

He turned to his right and realized that holy shit Tony Stark was next to him, also tied up, covered in blood and bruises.

Wait, Peter thought, if Mr. Stark is here, then who was just gallivanting around New York, losing fights and causing people's deaths? Certainly not Tony Stark…

Tony was unconscious.

Peter looked at him in fear. "Mr. Stark?" he whispered, frightened.

No response.

The fear in Peter's chest grew. "Mr. Stark?" he asked again, a little louder.

"He won't hear you, he's out cold," said a voice in Peter's head, and then the alien that sounded like Greedo with a British accent stepped out from the shadows. Where did he come from? Had he been there the whole time?

Peter glanced over at Tony, who was still lying unconscious, looking beat up.

"What did you do to him?" Peter choked out.

Greedo laughed. "Oh you don't even want to know. But it's not nearly as bad as what we're going to do to you."

Just then, the huge mechanical doors slid open. Harsh white light streamed in, temporarily blinding Peter. He heard a thump next to him. When he regained his sight, he saw Steve Rogers slumped next to him, also restrained.

"How did you-" Peter began, staring at Steve's limp, unconscious body.

"All thanks to you, actually," Greedo began. "Remember those experiments we did on you? Well that wasn't all we did. See, we put a processor in your body while you were unconscious and collected data based on how you reacted to various weapons and how your nerve stimulants worked in order to assess your abilities. We used this data to form a more accurate attack method, through which we managed to capture Iron Man and Captain America and soon the rest of the Avengers. And, thanks to the technology that is still in your body, we have some control over you. Ever wondered why you always black out? Where those panic attacks come from?"

"Why?" Peter asked fearfully. "Why are you doing this?"

"Simply put, we plan to take over the world. The Avengers have stood in the way of our plans before and they shall not this time. We plan to make you pay for what you have done. And, in the meantime, nobody will know you're gone."

Greedo pulled up a screen that showed a live video in which Iron Man, Captain America, and Spider-Man were causing harm to innocent people and putting hundreds of lives in danger.

"And now," Greedo said, "It's time for you to come with me." And he roughly grabbed Peter and pulled him out of the room.

* * *

/ hey guys, i hope you like my story! this is my first fanfic so sorry if it isn't great. i've been having some formatting issues: for some reason, my text randomly becomes bold and switches to HTML or something. if you see these issues please send me a review or private message or something so i can know which chapters are wonky and fix them! sorry and thanks! /


	16. chapter 16: pain (pt 2)

The scaly grey alien dragged Peter into another room. There was a metal chair. The chair didn't look very comfortable.

"Sit down," Greedo growled. Peter didn't sit down. He stood there and glared at the alien. "No," he said firmly.

Greedo snapped his fingers. Peter remained conscious, but he could no longer see nor feel anything. He panicked but could not control any of his movements. Within seconds, he regained power over his senses but was sitting in the chair with his limbs strapped in.

Fear consumed him but he pushed it down. He could not show weakness.

"Now, let us begin," Gredwith said.

Immediately, pain shot through Peter's body. He couldn't tell any specific place where it came from.

It was everywhere.

And it hurt.

So much.

So, so much.

But he couldn't show weakness. So he just clenched his teeth and pacified his mind with the thought that it would be over soon.

But it just got worse.

It just kept going.

The pain just became more intense.

Everything hurt so much.

And then finally, he choked out "please stop" and the pain decreased gradually and disappeared.

He was so sore everywhere. He had no strength left.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Greedo sneered. "You will pay for every bit of pain you've caused my people. You Avengers always cause so much hurt and never have to pay for any of it. Well, now you do." He flexed his hand and long, sharp claws extended from his fingers. He swung his hand and made deep several cuts across Peter's torso. Peter gasped and groaned but refused to say anything, refused to scream. He could feel the blood trickle down his stomach and the pain from the cuts erupting like a fire on his chest.

"Think you're being tough, huh?" Greedo growled mockingly. "We'll see about that." And he cut across Peter's face, too. And then punched him several times.

Peter was shaking now, and breathing heavily.

But he would be strong.

For some reason, he needed to stay strong. He didn't know why. But he refused to show weakness.

"Let's see if your 'special healing' can save you from this." Greedo picked up a sharp knife and stabbed it aggressively into Peter's torso. He cried out, finally not being able to hold it in anymore. The alien smiled evilly and stabbed the boy several more times. Peter coughed, choking on his own tears which were also pooled in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his head back, trying to swallow back the pain.

Peter wanted to slip out of consciousness, but he also knew that if he did it would probably because the aliens told him to. And he didn't like them having control over him.

Greedo snapped his fingers, and the lull of sleep poured over Peter, but he fought it off. He refused to be overcome with unconscious. It pushed harder at him, and he kept fending it off. But he was overpowered by exhaustion and pain already, and he didn't have much strength left, so when Greedo snapped his fingers the third time, Peter passed out.

* * *

/ hey guys, i hope you like my story! this is my first fanfic so sorry if it isn't great. i've been having some formatting issues: for some reason, my text randomly becomes bold and switches to HTML or something. if you see these issues please send me a review or private message or something so i can know which chapters are wonky and fix them! sorry and thanks! /


	17. chapter 17: the stark reality

Tony Stark slowly regained consciousness. First, everything was blurry and he was dizzy. Then, he fully came to. He realized he was lying on a wooden floor. He was wearing a black tee shirt and jeans. He was in a lot of pain.

What happened?

Oh, right. It all came back to him. He remembered the night before, after Peter had left, when he had gone up to his room quietly, someone had snuck up behind him and knocked him over and injected something into his arm before he could knock them off… then he had woken up in this same room and been brought into another room and tortured for whatever reason. Something about revenge.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. With shock he realized that Steve was next to him, on the ground, a few feet away, unconscious. "Steve," he whispered, but no response. He started to move closer but then heard footsteps so moved back to his initial spot and took up his initial position, pretending to be unconscious still. He tried not to jump when someone opened the door and threw something in, making a ThUmP next to him. He heard the metal mechanical door close again, and after a few seconds (just to be safe) he opened his eyes.

Holy shit.

It was the kid.

It was Peter.

What happened to him

No

No no no no no

They had hurt him, too.

Like they had hurt Tony

Peter was covered in bruises and blood and cuts

Then Tony noticed the profuse amount of blood still pouring from Peter's torso. His heartbeat sped up exponentially when he realized that holy shit they had stabbed him

And not just once

He counted.

Five times.

Five fucking times.

How is he alive?

….is he alive?

Panicking, Tony searched desperately for a heartbeat, for breathing, for anything, any sign of life, anything that would signify that his kid was OK

He was breathing

But barely

He needed help. If he didn't get help soon he would die. Die, again. But this time, it would be for real. This time, Tony would be there to watch. And that was not ok.

But he needed some way to contact someone outside. He didn't have a phone…the aliens had sensed its signals and taken it… but maybe Peter did? Of course, then they would have sensed those signals, too… unless..

Peter had just come from school. Were kids allowed to have their phones in school? Perhaps they had to have them turned off. Maybe Peter had his phone, and if it wasn't giving any signals, they wouldn't detect it.

Hands shaking, Tony checked Peter's pockets, and YES, his phone was there!

Tony's hands were shaking a lot now, but he managed to hold down the power button long enough to turn it on. After waiting for the device to boot up, he pushed the "emergency" button and was faced with a dial screen.

Who can I call?

It occurred to him that perhaps the safest bet would be to call the Avengers compound. Maybe someone would be there. There was usually someone in the building, right?

He dialed the number quickly and listened to the phone as it rang. Click. "Hello?"

Thank goodness

It was Bruce Banner

"Listen, Bruce," Tony began, "I'm trapped somewhere; the aliens who worked with Thanos managed to knock us out and bring us in here. Cap and the kid are here too, and the kid's about to die. Can you track our locations and come find us? It's urgent, he has like 5 stab wounds and is barely breathing." His voice cracked at the end. He hoped Bruce didn't notice.

"Whoa," said Bruce, then "Ok yes i'll be there soon with a med team. Keep him breathing and conscious if possible."

"Will do." Tony hung up, then quickly powered off the phone before the aliens could track its signal.

He gently tried to wake the kid up. "Hey kid," he whispered softly. "Peter."

Peter didn't wake up, but Steve did. He sat up groggily. "Whatsgoinon-" He caught sight of Peter lying unconscious on the ground, barely breathing, covered in blood and bruises, and of an also injured Tony Stark trying to revive him while holding back tears. "Whoa…"

"You gotta help me," Tony said. "We have to try and wake him up so he doesn't die."

Steve moved over to Peter as quickly as he could while being restrained. "Peter—"

Then the three Avengers heard footsteps. "Get down," Tony hissed at Steve as he regained his previous loose position on the floor but Steve wasn't quick enough. "Ah," Gredwith said, "it's your turn." He pulled Steve out of the room.

Tony sat up again as soon as the door closed. He wanted to go help Steve, to get back at Gredwith for what he had done to Tony and Peter, but he knew he couldn't. Tony was weak and Peter was dying and he needed to help. He started gently shaking Peter and harshly whispering his name. Finally, after what seemed like an hour (but was actually only 80 seconds) Peter's eyes opened groggily.

"Oh thank God," Tony sobbed, hugging Peter. The kid didn't argue, just tiredly leaned on Tony's chest, not having the energy to be self-sufficient.

"I'm so sorry," Peter choked out, his words slurred. "It was all my fault. If they hadn't done those experiments on me then they wouldn't have been able to get you or Cap or—"

"Shhh," Tony said, not wanting the kid to talk himself to death (literally) or pass out or a number of other things. He helped Peter sit against the wall, and said "It's not your fault, OK? Everything's gonna be OK. Just do me a favor and don't fall asleep."

Tony realized he was treating Peter more like he was his own kid than ever before, but he was OK with that. Peter could quite easily die here. And probably would, if the others didn't get there fast enough. And if Tony couldn't save Peter, then so help him he would make the kid's last moments bearable. Tony couldn't even imagine being in the amount of pain Peter was in at 15 - not to mention after losing nearly everyone he's cared about - and so if Tony had to risk his own sanity just to be a father to this kid when he needed one the most then that was a risk he was willing to take.

Peter leaned against Tony, losing energy by the second, and Tony held him there, stroking his fingers gently through his kid's messy hair, softly telling him that everything would be alright, even though he knew that chances are they wouldn't. A tear rolled slowly down Tony's cheek as he held his dying kid closer to him, tried to avoid listening to Steve's cries of pain in the distance, and waited helplessly for help that might never arrive.


	18. chapter 18: help

Bruce Banner was stressed. If Peter really was as badly off as Tony had made him out to be... they didn't have much time. In fact, even with special healing, Bruce would be surprised if the kid made it.

But he didn't want to think about that. He really liked the kid. Peter was charismatic. Fun. A lot less boring than most of the people Bruce dealt with.

And even if he hadn't liked him, he certainly didn't want him to die. No one deserved to die like that. Especially not Peter Parker. For God's sake, the kid was 16! And he was such a good guy. So nice. So selfless. So willing.

And so Bruce Banner made sure he took the fastest vehicle available and flew the quinjet at its quickest possible speed.

And he made sure he had the best medical people available. And he also brought Natasha, Vision, and Wanda, who happened to be nearby, in case there was trouble and physical conflict arose. He genuinely hoped he wouldn't need all these people.

* * *

When the GPS finally stated that the ship had arrived at the place where they had traced the phone to, Bruce got out of the ship with the other Avengers following close behind. The med team stayed in the ship and set up so that they could get to work as soon as the injured personnel arrived.

When Bruce stepped out of the ship, he saw a broken-down building. It was one of those buildings where, if you passed it, you wouldn't notice it. And if, by chance, you did notice, you certainly wouldn't enter. And Bruce didn't want to enter. Some instinct within him still told him no, you can't go into an unstable structure, don't be so stupid, but he knew that his friends were in there. He knew that if they weren't dead already then they would be soon if he didn't intervene now. He knew that it was up to him.

And that's when he heard a scream.

A scream of pain.

Coming from inside the building.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that the voice belonged to Steve Rogers. It was Captain Fricking America. And that's when Bruce sprinted toward the building, the other Avengers at his heels. Everything in his brain was screaming at him to leave, to turn around, to not go toward the danger, but something else inside him took autopilot.

After he turned the doorknob aggressively and shoved his whole body weight at the door, it opened. And he was not prepared for what he saw.

Tony Stark, covered in blood and bruises, was helping Peter Parker stand up. And Peter looked like Tony but worse. Bruises, blood, cuts, and oh shit.

You never realize how much blood there is in a person until you see too much of it come out.

And there was way too much of it.

That poor kid.

Bruce rushed over and put his arm under Peter's to support him and help him. Peter groaned but managed to walk. How is he walking? This kid should be dead. Even with super healing powers. Bruce could feel the kid's total reliance on him as Peter stumbled forward, barely able to walk even with support.

"Listen," Bruce said softly, "I'm gonna get you to safety, OK? But you gotta trust me and stay awake. You're gonna be fine. Everything's going to be fine."

He turned to the other Avengers. "Get Tony and Steve. Bring them to the quinjet."

The others rushed to help Tony and find Steve.

When Bruce finally made it to the jet, Peter was about to collapse. He could tell that the kid was dealing a crap ton of pain and was attempting to hide it, but as the pain grew more and more intense, it became more and more difficult to conceal. The boy was shaking and could barely walk straight or stand straight.

Bruce helped Peter lie down on a makeshift bed, which was low to the ground so that he could easily get on it. The doctors stared at him in shock and horror, assessing his injuries and wondering how he was alive, how he lasted so long, how he was actually walking a second ago, how he was still breathing, how his heart kept on going, and a million other things. But they quickly broke out of the trance and got to work quickly to stop the blood flow and stabilize him.

After a minute, Peter began to slip from consciousness. He turned to Bruce, who was helping the doctors. "Can I go to sleep now?" He asked drowsily. After confirming with the others that his condition was stable and that he would indeed wake up, Bruce nodded. "Stay strong, kid. Don't leave us yet. You're a good guy, and I'd hate to lose you." Peter could feel the emotion in the man's voice, but couldn't listen for long before his eyes closed and darkness seized him and he slipped away into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Tony Stark came into the quinjet a few minutes later. He was frustrated. He wanted to help fight the aliens, to make them pay for what they had done to him and to Cap and most of all to Peter. But the other Avengers had made him go to the jet. He was injured and tired both physically and emotionally. And as much as he wanted to help, he would only get himself more injured. He didn't have his suit and didn't have any weapons. The aliens were strong enough to capture three superhumans at their full strength, so who knows what they could do to them when they were injured. And of course he argued, but the other Avengers had made him go get medical help.

Tony sat down in the jet next to Peter, accepting the wet cloths and bandages the meds offered him. He watched in pain as the medical team stopped Peter's blood flow. Tony gingerly picked up the kid's blue shirt, which had been thrown to the ground when the med team had gotten to work trying to fix him up. The light blue fabric was stained with blood and torn in multiple places. "Is he going to be OK?" Tony choked out, trying to keep his voice as level as possible and hide the pain and emotion.

"We think so," one of the doctors responded after a second. "He's lost a lot of blood… however, the alien thing that attacked him apparently didn't know too much about human anatomy, because it stabbed him in all the least dangerous places. No major organs or arteries were touched. It's amazing, actually, that he managed to be this OK after all that… but yes, to answer your question. I think he'll live."

Tony sighed in relief, absentmindedly turning the blue shirt right side out rather than in the inverted state in which he had found it. His eyes pooled with tears, but he blinked them away and swallowed back the burning sensation in the back of his throat. Peter was going to live. His kid was going to be OK.

And if Peter was OK, then Tony would be, too.


	19. chapter 19: safe

There was a beeping sound.

Why was there a beeping sound?

 _I don't wanna get up yet, i'm so tired_ , he thought groggily. _Don't wanna go to school…_

Peter opened his eyes. He was in a comfortable white bed that wasn't his own. Remembering everything that had happened, he looked around and assumed he was in the Avengers compound, like last time.

But it wasn't the same bed as before. This one was in a cozy bedroom with light blue walls and fluffy grey carpet. It was larger than his room at home. He sat up. A sharp pain erupted in his side, in five specific places but also spreading everywhere in his torso. He gasped and caught his breath. He looked down at his torso and saw bandages wrapped around his skin in several places.

There was a thing in his arm. A tube connected to a pouch. IV, maybe? He'd never seen one in person but vaguely knew what they were.

He heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he tried to say, but his voice was raspy and he coughed. The door opened and Mr. Stark walked in.

"How are ya feeling?" he asked gently.

Peter thought about it. The wounds on his torso were causing him a lot of pain, but he felt significantly better. "I'm ok," he said.

"If you call being stabbed repeatedly 'ok'," Tony responded.

"I'm feeling better," Peter amended his previous statement. He sighed. "Mr. Stark, I'm—"

"Call me Tony, kid," he responded. "And don't apologize."

Peter stared at him, eyes wide. Was he just put on a first name basis with Iron Man? For real? Did he hear that correctly? "How did you know that I was going to apologize?"

Tony smirked. "You do it way too much. But you have nothing to apologize for."

Peter sighed. "But it was my fault that all this happened." And then he remembered how he had collapsed onto the wooden floor in the long room, leaning on Tony and hiding in his mentor's embrace. He should have been stronger than that. How could he show weakness like that in front of the man he looked up to the most? "And then I should have been stronger… I shouldn't have…"

And somehow Tony knew exactly what he was talking about. "You don't need to be sorry for showing weakness. What happened back there is nothing to be ashamed of, OK? Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." And Tony knew that no words could express his feelings, because although Peter felt weak for what had happened in the long wooden room, Tony actually admired the kid for it. The amount of strength that the kid had was undeniable. How he managed to get up and walk away after being stabbed five times and passing out and losing that much blood Tony would never know. But the kid was stubborn, that's for sure. And he wasn't ready to die, he wasn't ready to go yet, and so he wouldn't. Not even if all the odds were stacked up against him. He would stick it out because he was strong.

And then Tony realized that Peter was breathing a little too much, shaking, heart pounding, squeezing the bedsheets so hard that his knuckles went white, gritting his teeth together. Peter was trying to hide it from Tony because he didn't want his mentor to see him in yet another moment of utter weakness, he didn't want Tony to know that he was having another panic attack, to know that Peter couldn't do anything right.

Tony put his arm comfortingly over Peter's shoulders. He had never been very good at physical comfort, but he could tell that the kid needed it. _His_ kid needed it. And Peter leaned closer to the man who was like the father that he didn't have, and Tony hugged him and rubbed his hand in a circle on his back in the way that he assumed a good father would.

And Peter sobbed quietly, hiding his face in Tony's chest, wishing he would stop shaking, wishing he would stop crying, wishing a million things, but nothing ever came from wishes.

A few minutes later, Tony stood up. Peter has started to doze off, and Tony realized how exhausted the kid must be. But before he could leave, Peter said, "Can I ask a question?"

Tony nodded.

"Where am I?"

"In the compound," Tony responded. "In your room."

"My- in- in my room?"

Tony smiled a little in the corners of his mouth and in his eyes. "Well, since you'll be spending more time here now, and since your identity's out… you might as well have some personal space here."

Peter didn't know what to say. "Wow," he said, awestruck. "Uh, thank you."

Tony smiled and began to move again.

"How long will I be here?" Peter asked. "And uh, how long _have_ I been here?"

"Hold on, you said one question, not three," Tony teased, then his face became more serious. "You've been here since Tuesday. Today is Monday."

Peter's heart sank. Six days. He had been asleep for _six days_. Almost an entire week, gone.

"And as for how long you will be here?" Tony bit his bottom lip. "I dunno, kid. Doctors say they want you here for at least another week. With all that you've been through, two weeks isn't a lot of time to heal, but you're really strong. I didn't at all expect you'd be able to get up and walk away after everything they did to you, but-" He swallowed. "You can stay here as long as you need or want, if that's what you're asking. You're one of us now, and you're always welcome."

Peter nodded. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Tony smiled. "No problem, kid."

* * *

When Peter next woke up, everything was brighter. He guessed that it was around 10 am. He frowned. Did that mean he had been talking to Tony in the middle of the night? ...had he stayed up for him…?

The door opened and a doctor walked in holding a wad of white cloth looking stuff and a protein bar. "Glad to see you're up," he said, putting the cloth on the table and holding up the bar. "You hungry?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically and gratefully accepted the protein bar from the doctor. He didn't expect it to fill him up, since he was so hungry, but oddly he could only manage to eat two thirds of it.

"I expect you won't be able to eat huge amounts all at once for a few days," said the doctor, picking up the white stuff and a brown bottle and walking over to Peter's left side. "I need to change your bandages. Do you want me to do it now or come back later when you're asleep?"

"Now's OK," Peter said, "either one." After being tied up twice while unconscious, he was a little unsure about the thought of people wrapping stuff around him while he was asleep, even though he knew the doctors at the compound were top notch and trustworthy. Peter sat up, pushing the covers off of his torso and gently pulling the old bandages off. He could see the marks where the knives had penetrated his skin, but they were thinner and less bloody than before.

The doctor gently applied hydrogen peroxide from the brown bottle to the wounds with a white cotton pad. It stung, but only a little.

"Does it hurt?" the doctor asked.

Peter shook his head. "No."

"Really?" said the doctor, inspecting the bottle, perhaps to see if there were clear spots on the dark bottle where light could have allowed the liquid to neutralize. He frowned at Peter. "Are you sure?"

"Well, i mean, it stings a little, but it doesn't really _hurt_. I think my whole pain scale has been completely rewritten in the past month."

The doctor frowned and nodded, concern and sympathy in his eyes. "Well at least i know it's working," he said. He then grabbed a longer white thing and began to wrap it around Peter's torso, tightly enough that it wouldn't move but not quite enough to be uncomfortable.

The doctor stood up to leave, but Peter stopped him. "The alien thing that captured me said that he put something in me that would make me under his control, and I think he used it to knock me out a few times." He swallowed, and his voice became quieter. "What's in me?"

"There was a chip in your neck. We got it out as soon as we realized - as soon as Tony told us what had happened. But you're safe now."

Peter nodded. "And the aliens? Did the other Avengers-"

"The aliens are gone. Dead. Put in their rightful place. You're safe." And with a smile, he left the room.

Peter's eyelids were dropping on him so he closed his eyes, laid back, and fell asleep.


	20. chapter 20: kind of ok

Peter woke up a few hours later. Looking next to him, he saw his phone on a brown wooden bedside table. He picked it up and unlocked it and opened his message app. He had several notifications, most of which were from Ned.

Tuesday, 4:17pm

N: Hey man are you OK? Haven't heard from u since government class, just checking in.

Wednesday, 7:32am

N: Hey Peter are you coming to school today?

Wednesday, 3:04pm

N: Are you ok?

Thursday, 5:26pm

N: dude if you get this please respond. May is really scared. And so am I. last time this happened you died. Please don't do that again

Friday, 2:31am

N: are you there?

Friday, 4:09pm

N: dude

Saturday, 3:56am

N: …Peter?

Ahh the poor guy! He had lost his friend once before and wasn't ready to go through that again. Peter messaged him.

Monday, 2:05pm

P: Hey, Ned

Then it occurred to him that it was during the school day! Ned was in class! Oof what was he thinking?

So Peter was a little surprised when Ned texted back within seconds.

N: PETER

N: ARE YOU OK

N: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN

N: WHAT HAPPENED

N: DUUUDDDEEE

Peter smiled as he quickly texted back.

P: Hey man i've missed you

N: Was that really you on the news? Losing the fights n stuff?

P: No that wasn't me

P: Or any of the others

N: I knew it!

N: sorry

N: what happened?

P: Well I left gov to go find Tony and I kinda blacked out on the way. Then I woke up in this room with him and Cap. The aliens who had taken me earlier brought us there. Then Bruce Banner came with Scarlet Witch and Vision and they got us out and fought the alien thingies.

N: whoooaaaaaaa

N: Wait are you ok? Are you hurt?

P: A little. I'll have to stay here in the compound for another week or so.

N: Oh man

N: wait so was someone dressed up as you and Iron Man and Captain America?

P: Shapeshifters, I think.

P: I'm pretty sure the other Avengers found all of them.

P: I wish I coulda helped. But I was kind of unconscious so…

P: Anyway how have u been?

N: Wait you were unconscious?

N: Dude are you sure you're ok?

P: lol i'm fine

N: Does your aunt know you're ok? She was super stressed

P: Oh shit

P: I should call her. Ttyl

N: Ok see ya! Good luck!

Peter opened his phone app and clicked on May's contact. The anxiety within him built up exponentially as the dial tone played, which felt like it lasted a lot longer than it really did.

And then she picked up.

Peter had never been afraid to talk to May before. And yet, when he held the phone in his hand, he froze. He had disappeared. Twice. Both times he almost died. May should be angry. Really angry.

"Hi May," he said quietly, then held his breath, waiting for a response.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, you need to stop dying," May responded, emphasizing every word, each syllable packed with lots of conflicting emotions which simultaneously seeped through her words.

"Mayi'msosorryididn't-" Peter began, speeding through the words in his idiosyncratic way.

"Whoa whoa slow down," May said, "Please explain to me what happened, but not at a million beats per minute if possible."

Peter swallowed, then began. "Ok so i saw some news alert that said Iron Man had deliberately put peoples lives in danger for no apparent reason. And that doesn't sound like something he would do, so i was on my way uptown when—"

"Hold on— you left school?"

"yeah," he said, his voice small. "But i mean, i couldn't just sit there! I had to do something. So anyway, i was on my way uptown when suddenly i blacked out. And when I woke up I was in this room and Iron Man and Captain America were there too, and Tony used my phone to call Bruce Banner who came with Scarlet Witch and Vision and Black Widow and fought the aliens and won."

"Where are you now? Are you OK?"

"I'm at the compound. I'm supposed to stay here until I get better-"

"Wait, get better? Get better from what? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Just a little. I'm ok though, really!"

May sighed. "Peter, you need to stop disappearing like this. What am I supposed to do? I can't just sit here and not even know if you're alive…"

"I know," he said. "This won't happen again. But… if it does… I mean, I'm a superhero. I have to use my powers to help people. And I know that hypothetically I could die while doing so… but that's a risk I'm willing to take."

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take," May said brokenly.

"I'm sorry," Peter said sincerely. "I just know I have to do something, I have to help, because if not then why would I have these powers? Don't you remember what Uncle Ben said? 'With great power comes great responsibility'? I have a lot of power, and it's my responsibility to use it for good."

"I know," May said. "I just - you don't deserve to die, not yet. And I can't help but worry about you."

"I know," Peter sighed. "I love you, May."

"I love you too. Be safe. And keep in touch! Let me know as soon as you're allowed to leave!"

"I will, I promise!"


	21. chapter 21: tired

\- one month later -

After a long day of Spider-Man-ing around Queens, Peter Parker was tired. He had stopped a helicopter from crash landing, stopped a bike theft, saved a kitten from a tree — 'friendly neighborhood Spider-Man' stuff.

Normally Peter was tied after a long day of spidering around Queens, but today he was especially drained. Thanks to his heightened metabolism, he was supposed to eat around 4,000 calories a day, but on this particular Saturday he had only had about 400.

Peter arrived back at his apartment complex and quickly scaled the building, climbing in through his window quietly in order to refrain from waking the neighbors. He no longer had to worry about his identity being revealed since not only Aunt May but now the entire world knew his name and his face. But on this particular day, he was so tired that he was dizzy. He almost fell off the building. And he didn't realize that someone was following him. Normally his spider senses would alert him of his stalker, but today his heightened senses, which had been malnourished, failed to meet his needs, just as he failed to meet theirs.

And so Peter Parker didn't realize that as he climbed in through the window into his little room in the little apartment, a tall man wearing all black and holding a shiny silver gun in his belt walked around the building to the other side to enter the apartment he had seen Spider-Man climb into.

Peter sat on his bed, still wearing his Iron Spider suit, drowsily untangling his earbuds. He heard a knock on the door. He rose from his bed and left the room, and slowly walked through the hallway to the door. May beat him there. She opened the door with one hand, the other rubbing her sleepy eyes.

And a man walked in without an invitation.

He was wearing black.

He was holding a gun.

And Peter was so tired that it took him a second to register. But in that second, the man had already seen Peter in his Spider suit.

The man pulled out the gun

and he fired it.

—

/ hey guys! ive been having some formatting issues. for some reason, my text randomly turns bold or becomes HYML. If this happens to you please don't hesitate to send me a review or private message so i can know which chapters to fix. thanks! -thejuicebandit /


	22. chapter 22: shot

BANG

May fell to the ground with a thud. A bullet landed right in the left side of her head.

Before he even knew what was happening, Peter was charging at the man, not caring less if he got shot. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and his body went on autopilot. He punched the man with the full force of his strength and body weight combined, which knocked him out.

Peter stood there, the harsh reality of what had just happened finally settling on him. He rushed over to May. She struggled to sit up but then gave up and laid back down.

"I'm so sorry," Peter sobbed. "This is all my fault."

"It is not your fault, Peter. Don't blame yourself, please." She reached a shaking hand up to Peter and touched his cheek gently. "You can do so much good in the world, Pete. Don't throw that away. You're a good kid." She took a shaky breath. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Peter choked out, tears running down his face. He held May's shaking hand with his own, and when her breathing stopped, he was there, he was next to her, he was holding her.

He had called 911 but they didn't get there in time.

He had also called the Avengers. They arrived right after May died.

The Avengers knelt down next to Peter. He was shaking, crying, wishing it wasn't real, wishing he could go back in time and stop it from happening or take the bullet for her, but nothing ever came of wishes.

Tony knelt down next to Peter and gently pulled him close to him. Peter let himself be pulled into a hug. He couldn't stop the tears, so he cried into Tony's chest while the man who was like the father he didn't have benignly held him there and stroked his fingers gently through his hair.

And none of them said anything. None of them told him "shh" or "don't cry." None of them told him it would be ok. Because it wouldn't. And they knew that.

They all knew what it was like.

They all knew pain. They all knew loss. They all knew that, as much as they sometimes wished everything would go back to normal, it wouldn't.

They all knew that it wouldn't be ok.

But they were there for him.

And to Peter, that was all that mattered.


	23. chapter 23: broken

After about a minute or two, Tony Stark gently helped Peter stand up. "I'm gonna take you back to the compound, ok?" He said, his hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

A few months ago Peter would be mortified to be like this in front of his idols, but now he didn't care. He had shown weakness in front of them before, several times now, and they had responded with care. He had just lost his last living relative, the fourth parental figure who had left him, and he was broken beyond repair. Or at least that's how he felt.

Tony put his arm around Peter's shoulders protectively and for both physical and emotional support.

And then Peter heard footsteps coming down the hall, approaching him.

It suddenly occurred to Peter that he had heard the sirens approaching a minute ago but it hadn't registered in his brain until now.

Then, two police officers walked through the hall and stopped dead in the doorway. They stared with wide eyes at what they saw in the room. They had expected a dead person or a dying person and maybe a killer and maybe a grieving person or two. What they did not expect to see was a woman lying dead on the floor, her killer knocked out in front of her with a lump on his head, and the _freaking Avengers_ sitting there and standing there. _Why are the Avengers here?_ they thought. _Is this real?_

"Wait..." one of them ventured. "What happened...? What's going on...?"

Peter didn't know if he could talk without crying, and Tony knew that.

"I assume you know who we are," Tony said, regaining his usual, almost haughty attitude. He walked closer to the police officers, lowering his voice as if to keep Peter from hearing, even though he knew Peter had enhanced hearing and could hear every word without trying. "The woman who died tonight was May Parker, the last living relative of Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man."

The man turned to Peter. "Were you here when it happened?" Peter nodded.

The police officer continued, "Can i ask you to tell me what happened?" he spoke with empathy that made the Avengers wonder if he had experienced loss like this too. "I know it will be hard, but I need to know what happened."

Peter nodded and swallowed.

His voice came out kind of scraggly. He worried that he sounded too much like a kid. "I came home and I was really tired so I went to my room. Then I heard a knock at the door. May went to get it, and I followed her. She opened the door and a man barged in. He didn't say anything — he just shot her. I maybe kind of punched him in the head," Peter appeared almost sheepish but definitely not ashamed. "I called you, and I called them," he motioned to the Avengers, "but she died before anyone got here." A tear rolled down his cheek. Tony put his hand on the kid's shoulder.

The other police officer, who had been examining the body of the murderer while Peter was talking, turned to the others. "This guy's got a major concussion, at least. What on earth did you hit him with?" He was quite shocked when the boy responded, "my fist."

He looked at Peter, eyes wide. "You sure can pack a punch, kid. You've got a lot of strength, so make sure you do what's right with it."

Peter nodded. "That's why i'm Spider-Man."


	24. chapter 24: home

Peter wanted to leave. He didn't want to be in that room anymore. He didn't want to see May's body on the floor, surrounded with blood. He didn't want the police officers there, asking him questions, even though they were gentle and kind. He didn't want to think about any of it.

He just wished he could go back in time and undo it. He wished he could disappear. He wished it would all just be over. He even wished that he had died instead of May. But nothing ever came of wishes.

Tony could tell that Peter didn't want to be there. And he was about to take him home to the Avengers compound when he was interrupted by one of the police officers.

"You're sixteen, right?" he said, frowning at Peter. The kid nodded.

"And she was your last living relative?" Another nod.

"Did your aunt say anything about who would take care of you in the unlikely event that she passed?" Peter shook his head. "She didn't have anyone designated."

"Ok. In that case, we're going to have to find you a guardi-"

"We'll take him," Tony said flatly, glancing around at the other Avengers. "He's one of us now."

Hope flickered into Peter's empty heart. Did they really want him?

The police officer nodded hesitantly. "Unfortunately, since he's a minor, he can't just go with you unless he's adopted or-"

"Then I'll adopt him," Tony interrupted again. "I'll get my lawyers and I'll sign whatever paperwork," he waved his hand nonchalantly, "but I'm going to take him home now." He spoke confidently, with a tone that implied that whatever he said was definite and final. Peter was glad for that, since he didn't "He's been through a lot tonight." Tony put his hand comfortingly on Peter's back and the kid melted to the touch. He let his mentor gently lead him out, and thoughts echoed in his mind. Does he really want me? Do they really want me? He felt like he was floating. His whole body was shaking and he felt like he was watching himself walk out of the room.

Peter sat on the couch hesitantly. It would take him a little while to get used to living here, to making it his home. Tony sat down next to him and looked at him, his arm resting on the back of the sofa. He moved his mouth slightly as though he were sucking on a marble as he tried to come up with something to say to the kid who was sitting quietly on the edge of the soft sofa, occupying himself by absentmindedly playing with the loose threads on a ripped part of his Spider-Man suit.

Luckily for Tony, he didn't have to think for long. Peter quietly said, "Do you really want me?" His voice sounded so broken, so unbelieving that he was deserving of love, that the sound of it elicited a pang within Tony. He had never been one for physical contact, but he suddenly wanted to hug the kid and tell him that everything would be OK and that he not only wanted him but he needed him.

"Of course," Tony responded. "Why wouldn't we?"

Peter let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Why would you?"

Tony swallowed. He didn't know how to answer the question, because the question had no answer. He couldn't imagine not wanting Peter there. "Because… you… are important to me." For one of the first times in his life, Tony was struggling with his words. "I've changed, since I met you, and I think you know that. You're like a son to me, and now I know what it's like to care about someone in that way. And I wouldn't give that up for anything." Peter forced a smile, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to force their way out of his throat.

He swallowed. "Thank you, Mr. Stark-"

"Tony."

"Thank you. For everything."

And Tony gently put his arm around Peter's shoulders and Peter sunk into his embrace, his eyes filling up with tears. Peter wasn't OK. He never would be. But at least he had someone to take that journey with. At least he had a family. And he was home.


End file.
